Breaking Dawn
by Dean.is.Batman
Summary: Harry and Severus are forced to work together to save the wizarding world. AU sixth year.
1. Chapter 1

Hair outlined by moonlight, sticking up in all directs, shadowed the face below in movement. A breeze shuffled through the dark locks, sending a shiver down the teenager's back. Harry Potter pulled his robe closer around his body in attempt to regain some warmth.

He had been sitting outside for hours - he had lost track of time - and all he could do was stare dejectedly at the lake. Ruffled waves beat against the shore in a rhythm that was hypnotic. He could continue to sit there until the morning came and then left again, until the end of hardships. Harry sighed, his breath mixing with the swirling air, and let his eyes fall mercifully closed.

He felt so tired and for a moment he wondered if he was already dead. Dead on the inside, with no life left to spark even the smallest bit of interest in anything. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Never-Truly-Lived, tucked his chin against his chest. Not even his friends could recognize the self-loathing and helplessness that he felt on an hourly basis. How could they, he smiled and nodded when they wanted. Always when THEY wanted. It was like his Aunt and Uncle had programed him to hide his true self from everyone and everything.

It felt impossible to open up - too scary. Savior of the Wizarding World, yeah right.

Harry Potter felt a presence behind him and he squeezed his eyes closed, not looking up. He should have known that Hermione Granger would have noticed when he left the tower, she noticed everything.

"Leave me alone, 'Mione." He pleaded softly, his voice breaking. "There are some things no one can help me with. You wouldn't understand."

Footsteps came to a stop at his side. He felt a gaze staring at him, but he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to face his friend and the motherly look of concern she would level upon him.

"I am not Hermione Granger." A voice said with pure disdain. "I am, however, capable of understanding a great deal."

Harry felt frozen. Had someone hit him with a Petrificus Totalus without speaking? His bones felt frozen and his eyelids refused to open. They seemed fused to his lower eyelashes. Harry was on his feet and running before he could draw in a gasp.

Severus Snape watched the boy disappear into the forest, clearly not in possession of his wits. The teacher huffed and the exhale formed a visible cloud before vanishing, and stalked after the Potter boy. It had been a long night for the Potions Professor and Harry Potter's little disappearing stunt had only increased the man's annoyance. A wave of limb numbing tiredness washed over the black haired man and for a moment he hesitated. What was the point of going after Potter anyway? The boy would only clam up, burying whatever emotional angst he needed to deal with, and then there would be nothing left but shared sarcasm and dislike.

Still, as a teacher it was Snape's duty to see to the safety of all students, not just the ones that he preferred. With a lurch he continued forward into the trees. A flick of his wand sent its tip blazing in a tiny ball of illumination. The dull light made Severus' features appear even more sallow than usual, his dark eyes buried in their sockets. Thin lips pressed into a thin, pale line as he resisted the urge to sneer at the Forbidden Forest.

The spring in his step was lent entirely by the layers of dead pine needles under his soft soled boots. Severus could not see the boy's trail in the dark, but he was certain that the Black Lake would be where Harry would end up. All students eventually ended up there when on similar hormone driven treks. His knees aching from the cold, Severus continued forward at an even pace. There was no rush.

.....

Snape! He had been so stupid to assume that it was Hermione. Harry clenched his hands into fists and pressed them against his temples in despair. The teenage girl, wonder-witch that she had become over the years, was probably snoring obliviously in her bed. He felt so ridiculous. Now Snape probably thought he was crazy too.

It was no secret what Professor Severus Snape thought of Harry Potter and Gryffindors in general. 'Elitist attention mongers' was the best way to sum it up in only a few syllables. Yes, Gryffindors had a lot of scorn sent their way from the proud Potions Master. If only he had not been the one to see Harry in such a vulnerable state.

The young man shook his head, trying to convince himself that it was not true. There was no Snape, there was no reason to panic, everything would be fine when he woke up to find this all a dream. A truly terrible dream.

.....

A halo of orange light sent shadows skittering up the tree trunks at the edge of the lake.

"Nox." Snape stowed his wand in a sleeve pocket and watched the boy pace a few hundred yards ahead.

It was easy to see that Potter was both embarrassed about being seen in his current state and emotionally upset about another matter entirely. He had a clump of messy, black hair clutched tightly against his skull. The pull of his white knuckle grip looked painful.

Severus walked forward, his footsteps soft, but not unnoticed. Harry turned to face him.

"You need someone who can understand you, Potter. I assure you, I will do my best if that is what it takes to stop this nightly meandering that has the entire castle staff in an uproar." Snape offered in a neutral voice.

He felt the urge to gag, but ignored it. He had done far more miserable tasks for the Dark Lord. Potter was one boy and each night for the past four days he had gone missing from the Gryffindor tower. Severus worried for the Headmaster's health if this unecessary stress continued. The old man was growing soul-tired and it terrified Severus. He would do anything to keep his mentor and friend safe, even if it meant having a heart-to-heart with Potter.

"Well?" Snape pressed when the boy made no move to respond.

Harry fixed him with a dark, stormy gaze. The familiar green of his eyes sent an electric spark through Snape's heart. Melancholy settled easily into the tension between them. He missed Lily - every day. Potter was a different story. A sneer tried its best to escape the stoic mask Severus held onto tightly. There was nothing to miss about James, bloody, Potter.

"No." The answer was curt, but not rude. Harry took a deep breath before saying evenly. "I apologize for any inconvenience I have caused you or the other teachers, sir. I merely needed time alone with my thoughts. If it is alright with you, I will return to the tower now."

The boy did not wait for a reply. His words may have been civil, but the way he brushed hastily past the Professor and walked towards the castle reminded Severus of a wild animal. Appearing domesticated at first glance, but ready to tear you limb from limb at the slightest provocation. What had happened to the Harry Potter that had disrupted his Potions class so epically just a year before with his carefree manner? Snape was not entirely certain he should care.

With a slight lift of his eyebrows, the man followed his young charge into the darkest shadow of all, that of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

.....

Albus Dumbledore was pacing back and forth behind his large wooden desk when Severus entered unbidden. Worried blue eyes studied him sharply from behind a pair of spectacles.

"Is he alright?" There was the slightest of vocal tremors.

The raven haired Potions Master closed the door. "Yes, Albus. He is in the tower now, apparently the child feels himself entitled to such wandering. I dare say he could use with a detention...or a dozen."

The Headmaster fell into his large chair and slumped, exhaustion evident on every inch of his wrinkled face. The twinkle had returned, however, the moment he knew the boy was safe. Snape knew that his mentor had always treasured Lilly and James Potter as dear friends and that love had been transfered to Harry at the moment of his parents death. It was a miracle, to Severus, that the boy could not see how much he was loved by those around him. Personally, it had put him off his dinner more than once.

After all, what was to love. The boy was average. Nothing special, nothing sacred and certainly nothing to fawn over. He was only a child who had been thrust into a position where too much was expected of him. Severus understood this perfectly well, but that changed nothing. The boy was...problematic.

"Thank you, Severus, for doing everything that you have. I know how you feel about Harry."

"Yes, well, anything to help you." Snape replied, his mouth softening into an almost smile.

Dumbledore's brows drew together and his chin trembled. "Severus, I have thought of you like a son for so long now. I think it only right that you be the first to know." The familiar kindly glint in the old man's eyes grew into something more like pity.

The black haired man felt his heart thud heavily against his chest, his skin turning cold at the sense that he would not like what he was about to hear.

"I am dying, Severus. I have been for some time, but I feel the end will come soon. I am sorry." The genuine pain and regret was almost more than both men could handle. "Please, look after the boy for me."

"Albus -." His denial was interrupted when the old man leaned forward in his chair and reached out, across the table, towards Snape. "I promise." He meant every word.

After all, how could he deny the old man his last wish.

They talked for hours that night and when he finally fell asleep in his own quarters, in the dungeons, Snape knew that Albus had lead a full and contented life. There was little tying the old man to this world any longer, the outcome of the war was up to Potter now. Thanks to two words, it was also his personal responsibility to see the teenage boy through the course of the battles and wars that would come.

Snape did not feel the tears that coursed slowly down his cheeks from under sleep-heavy eyelids. He did not hear his own whimpers in the dark.

.....

Harry Potter knew that he was probably in a lot of trouble and he really did feel bad about breaking curfew, but there was only so much room in the tower and when depression fell over him, he needed space. Fresh air that smelled of pine and soil. Nature was the best medicine that he had found over the years - the sheer beauty of it could sometimes pull him right out of a blue mood.

Snape had been suspiciously quiet, almost frighteningly so, during Potions class earlier that day and Harry could not help but feel relieved. He had thought that the teacher might use the previous night's encounter as a new way to taunt and ridicule him in front of the other students. He felt glad that something else was eating at the greasy Professor.

The teenager stood in front of the door leading to the Headmaster's office. He had been summoned there after his last class for what he could only assume was a good dressing down. He squared his shoulders, ready to give a lengthy and vague explanation. Dumbledore was a great man, a powerful wizard and a meddler. Harry had learned to become wary of the old man's manipulative ways.

The boy reached up, his robe falling back across his forearm to reveal the scar on the back of his hand - I Will Not Tell Lies. With a resigned grimace at the memory of how that particular scar had been created, he knocked four times in quick succession.

"Come in, my boy." The voice was muffled, but pleasant.

Harry pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside the large room. Albus was standing in front of a floor to ceiling bookcase on the left hand side of the room. He did not appear to be angry, but Harry tread softly as he walked forward. He watched Dumbledore carefully, looking for some kind of indication of why he had been called.

"You wanted to speak with me, sir." Harry said by way of greeting.

Albus nodded, one hand caressing a worn book spine. "Yes - Yes, I did."

Harry waited, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He had rarely felt so uncomfortable in the older man's presence. He supposed it was guilt from causing so much trouble the past few nights. He had hoped that the Headmaster would understand or at least be lenient in punishment. This unremarkable reaction gave Harry the creeps.

"If this is about last night, I -."

Albus shook his head, cutting off Harry's words with a brief wave of his hand. The old man turned so that he was facing the boy. It was then that Harry felt something shift in the atmosphere between them. An unspoken understanding. Albus Dumbledore was dying.

Harry did not know how he could feel so certain. Maybe it was because he had seen so much death in his life, he was not sure, but he knew that the white bearded man before him would not live much longer. A gasping sob shuddered through his body.

"No!" Harry denied the unspoken truth loudly, his brilliant green eyes going wide in disbelief.

Albus smiled sadly, an understanding expression on his face. "I am sorry to be the one to bring you pain, dear boy." Then, so there would be no misunderstanding, he explained. "I am dying. My years have long since been spent and now I am ready to leave this plane of existence in exchange for the next."

"You can't leave! You can't leave me alone!" Harry threw the plea and accusation out at once. He hugged himself tightly, trying to control his breathing. "What about Voldemort. I can't defeat him alone. I - I need y - you."

The Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world, broke down into tears of anguish and fear. How could he go on alone. First his parents, then Sirius and now Dumbledore.

Albus gathered the young man in a close hug and rested his chin in the ruffled hair. The old man had known that this would be hard on the boy. After a long moment, the Headmaster pulled away.

"You will not be alone. Minerva is always available if you need a listening ear. Hagrid will do his best as well." Dumbledore let his gaze fall to the floor. "I have asked Severus to watch over you. I want you to know that."

Harry felt like someone had upended a pail of cold water over his head. "Excuse me, sir?"

The ghost of a smile flitted through the Headmaster's blue eyes and a soft chuckle filled the room. "Your expression is priceless, but hardly warranted. You can trust him."

"Like hell!" Harry clapped both hands over his mouth, eyebrows shooting up. "Sorry." He said the muffled apology through his hands.

The chuckle turned into true laughter and Albus walked over to a chair by the floo, motioning for Harry to join him. After a moment the older man regained his composure, but a wide smile remained stretched across his face. The weary marks around his eyes wrinkled at the humorous, but expected, response from the boy. Harry sat down in a plush chair opposite his friend.

"Harry, I know that you and Severus never did get off to a good start, but I want you to trust me when I say that he is a loyal friend. He may be a bit...brusque...at times, I admit, but that does not negate the fact that he has a carefully hidden paternal instinct."

Harry's mouth fell open. He had expected to hear something more along the lines of, 'his heart is in the right place', instead he had been told that Severus bloody Snape had the urge to be parental! Green eyes blinked slowly, lit up by the raging fire in the floo.

"He keeps it well hidden, even from himself, but I've seen into his mind. I know." Albus said.

Harry's mouth fell closed. He let his hands rest between his knees, shoulders falling forward. His eyes misted with tears. He was going to lose a dear friend. Waiting outside the office door, Harry had only thought of himself. He had been wondering what the old codger would do next. Now he felt like he was losing a grandfather.

"Harry." Albus spoke softly, his voice soothing. "There is no shame in feeling overwhelmed. I know that is why you have been taking to the forest."

Harry glanced up anger flitting across his expression. "If you knew why didn't you help me? I tried to talk with you last year, but things kept happening. I think...I think we missed out on a time that could have been ours."

"I know what you mean, dear boy." The Headmaster agreed. "I am sorry. Only in hindsight did I realize my mistake."

The conversation fell into silence as they both became lost in thoughts of regret and impending loss.

.....

END CHAPTER ONE

((Author Note: I will beta the entire story AFTER it is finished so don't bother pointing out the mistakes. I'll fix them.))

Please, review, if you liked it and want more.


	2. Chapter 2

Soft soled boots sat, one beside the other, in front of the doormat. A half-cup of tea, steam still pouring into the air around it, sat on the table. The customary dark cloak did not billow from its position on a coat hook behind the overstuffed chair by the fire. Every indication pointed to the dungeon rooms having been deserted in an abrupt fashion. Severus Snape had been called to Albus' bedside.

The clock ticked diligently, showing the time as four o'clock in the morning. Two days after the incident in the forest.

There was only one painting to be found hanging on the wall - inside Snape's bedroom above his dresser - and the occupant was sobbing. Red hair fell over the two dimensional image of Lily Potter, her head in her hands to catch the stitched tears before they could escape the frame. She had felt Dumbledore's passing and even though she was nothing more than a remnant of Lilly, a ghost of a frame, she was still devastated. He had been like a father to her for so many years in life.

.....

Moments earlier.

Albus reached forward with his left hand, his eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling. The old man's chest was heaving and short gasps filled the air. Teachers were circled around the bed, Minerva and Severus reaching for the hand simultaneously. They settled on sharing the grasp.

"Take care of the children, please, watch out for them." The man's breathing stopped and with his last exhale he whispered his greatest fear. "Do not let the school fall..." His body stilled, eyes staring upwards.

Minerva's grip tightened around the old man's hand as tears coursed down her face. Severus felt his emotions shut off. He could not feel a thing - no horror or grief - it had been replaced by a cold numbness. Minerva released Dumbledore's hand, giving Severus a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning to the other teachers.

"The students should be informed first thing." She said, taking control of the situation.

"Yes, Ma'am." Filch was the first to respond, his disbelieving gaze fixed on the dead body of the former Headmaster. "Who do ya think will take over now?" He asked.

"A teacher vote will be initiated if there is no specifications in his Will." Madam Pomfrey answered.

"I c'na believe he's gone." Hargrid sobbed out, blowing his nose loudly on a kerchief.

Filch put a hand on the half-giant's arm. "Aye." He sympathized mournfully.

Severus stood to his feet and brushed past them all in his blind race for the door. He needed to get out of the room and away from the dead body that had been his best friend, mentor and father for the past twenty years. The others watched his escape with understanding and pity.

There had always been a side to Professor Snape that the other staff did not completely understand, but due to Dumbledore's consistent reassurances they had never tried to break through the man's outer shell of sarcasm. The sound of the stone gargoyle moving broke through the impending silence.

"Harry Shou'da been 'ere." Hagrid muttered, the words were not meant to be spoken aloud, but they sent a chill through the room.

Minerva's eyes widened. How could they have overlooked the boy. He would be devastated. After all, the Headmaster had been like a father to the boy. The woman bowed her head, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. She would have to talk with the boy and hope that he understood.

.....

Harry stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly, his hands formed into fists at his side. Minerva was looking out a side window of Dumbledore's office - which was now her office, as she had just explained to him - and trying to excuse her earlier oversight.

"-so, you must understand, Mr. Potter, that we did in no way mean to overlook you. But last night was very hectic and none of us were thinking clearly as it was...I hope that you can forgive myself and the other teachers." She finished, finally looking at him.

Harry did not move a muscle, eyes blazing in a silent fury from behind his battered glasses. They had 'overlooked' the fact that he had loved the old man like a grandfather. They had 'overlooked' what could have been a time for death-bed confessions between Dumbledore and the Boy-Who-Lived. They had 'overlooked' everything.

"Mr. Potter..." Her tone softened until it was almost motherly in inflection. "Harry?"

His nose twitched when a snarl tried desperately to claw its way past his cold demeanor. He would simply overlook her authority over him and leave if she insisted on pushing him into talking. He had no words at that moment, only anger and confusion and a mental wall holding back a tidal wave of grief. If that wall should break - he did not let that thought finish. Harry knew that he would make it through this tragedy just like he had every one before it.

He unfolded his fists in resignation and nodded curtly to the Professor, the closest he could come to a response. She seemed to realize that he could not speak and so, with a concerned motion, she sent him on his way.

He had just reached the doorway when her voice stopped him cold.

"He was proud of you, Harry."

It was suppose to be an olive branch of sorts, a way to lessen the blow, but to Harry all it did was add fuel to the fire. How the hell was he suppose to know if Dumbledore was proud of him? He had been kept away from the man and from those words. He had been left out...overlooked.

His skin was hot with anger, face flaming in a blush despite his desire to remain cool and aloof. Unlocking his frozen limbs, the boy left without a sound or backwards glance.

Minerva collapsed into the chair that Albus had grown so fond of - he had often spoke of its great qualities in his later years - and reached towards the candy dish still sitting on the corner of the desk. Lemon drops, she noticed with a smile as she popped one into her mouth. She would miss the talks with Albus and all the ways that he had treated her like a daughter. Her eyes ached, but there were no tears left to cry. Not only that, she had responsibilities now and no time for grieving. The students and the school needed her to be strong.

.....

Under the bed rested a photo album, it had fallen open to a page revealing Lily Potter seated on a grassy hill. The woman watched anxiously as her son's feet paced back and forth in the visible space. All the image could see were heavily socked feet scuffling around in the otherwise empty dorm room. She wished there was something that she could do for her son, but she was nothing more than an image. Barely even a remnant. Most of her memories were lost or faded, but she did know one thing for certain, she loved her son and he was hurting.

The feet stopped moving, coming to stand next to the window. She pictured him looking outside at the Black Lake, eyes haunted and teary. She heard a snuffle and then the sound of shallow breathing. He was crying again.

Biting her lip, the picture of Lily turned the ghost of her soul away and traveled to another frame in another room.

.....

Severus was watching her with dark, dead eyes. Lily blinked and tried to smile reassuringly - it ended up looking a little forced - to let him know that she was there with him. She understood his pain.

"I am sorry, Sev." She said.

"As am I, Lily." He said sounding defeated and empty of emotion. "How is the boy handling...everything?"

She hugged her body tightly. "Not well, Sev. I'm worried about him."

"I'm sure revealing yourself to him would do quite a bit to distract him from his current problems." Snape suggested.

Lily frowned. "For the last time, Sev, I don't think it would be a good idea. After all, I'm hardly completely as you well know. What could I possibly do to help him? All I would be able to do is watch and give a few words of advice and remind him of a life he can never have."

"Hm." Snape made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat. "Perhaps."

She wiped away a tear. "I wish I could, I love him so much...but I do not think it would be best for Harry and that is all that matters."

"Hm."

They looked at each other for several long minutes. Severus wished that his friend was alive to help him through the next months, but having her there in a picture frame talking and interacting was better than nothing at all. The man ran a hand through his black hair as he thought over the last week.

Harry Potter was having some sort of internal crisis...problematic child.

Albus Dumbledore was dead. The numbness was beginning to wain, being replaced by hurt and golden sadness.

Minerva had been named Headmistress of Hogwarts. She would be fair, Severus knew, but she took her professionalism very seriously. He would have to re-learn the rules under her watchful gaze. After all, Albus had let him get away with so much due to the fact that Severus had been employed as a double-spy. Minerva had always disapproved.

"Can you keep an eye on him?" Lily asked.

"I will. Dumbledore asked me, as well." Severus laughed joylessly. "Seems fate has it in for me."

"Sev." Lily admonished with a roll of her brilliant green eyes. "At least try to act like it is not the end of the world - he is my son after all."

"Hm."

.....

Harry sat at breakfast, staring at his bacon and eggs morosely. Hermione was sitting next to him, sharing a concerned frown with Ron.

"You have to eat, mate." Ron spoke up.

Harry did not respond, if they did not know him better the two friends would think he had not heard them at all. After several long moments of waiting the housemates started to eat in unison. Harry picked at a corner of toast and swallowed the crumbs. It felt like eating tacks, every taste of butter and salt just another reminder that everyday things no longer held appeal.

Dumbledore was dead.

The Great Hall was unusually quiet that morning and a large group of the population had not even attended the meal. Several wizard counselors had been called in and they sat at one end of the teacher's table. Out of all the students, Harry Potter had been the one singled out by all four of the newly arrived staff - temporary though their presence was they had been instructed to think of the newcomers as full-fledged faculty.

"Maybe you should talk to one of them." Hermione suggested once she noticed where Harry's gaze had wandered. "I know it would make the Headmistress a sight less worried."

"I'll think about it." Harry said, though he had no intention of doing any such thing.

He bit into an edge of bacon and winced. It used to taste so good, fulfilling, but now it was weak and almost nauseating. Harry pushed his plate away, rubbing the grease off his hands using the edge of his robe. Hermione frowned at his lack of manners, but did not say anything.

"What will happen to Quidditch this year?" Ron wondered aloud. "I mean, things around here have been a bit barmy around here lately. I hope the funeral doesn't change anything - I mean, the tryouts are -."

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed, startling some first years several seats down. "Shut up!"

Ron shrugged, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine. I was only saying..."

"Sometimes you have no sense at all." The girl said, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes began to mist over.

All color drained from Ron's face. "Don't cry, 'Mione. I didn't mean it, honest."

"Just, shut up." She stood up, grabbed a biscuit off her plate and whirled away.

Ron started to get up, thought better of it and settled back into his seat. "Great Merlin she's in a mood, isn't she?" He asked Harry.

"Guess you could say we all are." He responded with a heavy sigh.

.....

Snape watched the trio of Gryffindor friends intently. He wondered what had upset the Granger girl so completely, although he had a hunch it was due to the Headmaster's death. Most of the students - even the Slytherins - were having trouble dealing with the sudden loss.

Counselors had been called in, as per Minerva's orders, to make sure that anyone who needed to talk had an outlet. More than two dozen students had already set up weekly schedules, though their identities were being kept tightly concealed. Severus frowned.

Harry had stopped eating again.

In his minds eye, the Potions Master could see Lily Potter's image giving him a 'look'. The one that meant 'stop stalling and do something about the problem already'. Not relishing the duty, the man stood to his feet and made his way around the large head table.

Harry Potter would have to put up with having a shadow of a man follow him for the next several weeks. Until he could truthfully report to Lily that her son was dealing alright.

......

"Um, hello, Professor." Ron said, eyes going wide.

Harry turned in his seat to find himself staring at Snape's black vested chest. Green eyes shot upwards and Harry leaned to the side so that he was not so close to the teacher.

"Professor?" The dark haired boy asked.

"Is there something wrong with the food, Potter?" The man asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry felt confused. "No, sir."

The boy wondered why Snape should care if he ate or not, but stayed silent. The Professor looked uncertain for a moment before declaring haughtily.

"Perhaps your delicate palate does not allow you to enjoy the food that the rest of us mere mortals must consume."

Ron looked ready to bolt over the table. The red hair forced himself to be civil. "The food is fine, Professor. Harry's just had a hard couple of days is all."

"Was I speaking to you, Weasley?"

"Uh." Ron closed his mouth with a snap.

"Sir, Ron is right. I've been thinking about the funeral and all..."

Snape motioned towards the head table with his chin. "Perhaps one of our 'guests' can help you regain your appetite."

Harry's brow furrowed, but he nodded in response hoping that the man would let the subject drop. Then, looking as if he had completed some insanely difficult mission, the teacher turned on his heel and walked towards the exit. The Gryffindor's exchanged looks of bewilderment.

Ron leaned over the table. "I think he wants you to see a shrink!" He whispered angrily.

Harry shrugged. "It's not like they can force me or something."

"Ah. Good point." Ron agreed.

Snape had disappeared into the hall, but the image of him standing several inches away, sarcastically suggesting mental instability left Harry on edge for the rest of the day. What if the Potions Master talked to Minerva and somehow convinced the woman that Harry should be forced to attend therapy.

"I think we should go check on Hermione...and you might want to apologize." Harry suggested. "Otherwise she's liable to be mad at both of us all day."

Ron sighed heavily, eying the rest of his meal. "Yeah."

Standing to their feet, both boys made their way out of the Great Hall and towards the Gryffindor tower. Their classes for the day had been postponed due to the memorial and funeral that was to take place that afternoon. Outside the castle, the teary sky released a torrent of rain as if to wash away the pain and suffering of those below.

.....

Spots of yellow sun flitted in and out of his vision, everything else was a blur that seemed to morph around him. Faces changed, people moved about and words were exchanged, but the only thing that Harry Potter truly saw were the little spot of sun sinking ever lower across Dumbledore's casket.

It was a beautiful wooden hue with gold leaving around the edges and in a moment of clarity Harry found himself wondering what happened to the bodies of wizards. He had never thought to ask. Did they disappear like the Jedi's in Star Wars - fading into nothing and leaving behind only a garment and memories. Harry swallowed hard, it felt like something was stuck in his throat. Dumbledore was dead.

"Harry - Harry?"

An insistent voice disturbed his numb staring and he looked over at Hermione who was pulling on his robe arm to get his attention. The girl was dressed for a funeral with her curled locks pulled back into a simply style and her school uniform accented with the mourning color of black. Harry winced as he remembered another black robe that he had seen too many times in the past. Now, without Albus to strike fear into the hearts of the Death Eaters and Voldemort Harry knew that he would see the robe's owner much sooner than he would like. Not that it mattered now.

"Yes, what?" He responded in as normal a tone as he could muster.

Hermione gazed at him searchingly. "Everyone else has left, we're the only ones still here. I know that the Headmaster meant a lot to you, Harry, but I think we should go now."

That was the first time that Harry looked at anything besides the casket. They were outside in the court yard which had been transformed into a large enough space to fit the entire Hogwarts population of students and teachers. It must have been a beautiful ceremony, but Harry could remember none of it. He began to feel faint, his head bowing of its own accord.

"Harry?" Hermione's pitch grew higher. "Are you alright?"

It took a lot of effort to give her a reassuring smile, but Harry managed it. "Just fine. Brilliant, really." The last was tacked on with a sarcastic tilt of his head. "Lets get out of here."

"Yes."

Pushing himself off the seat, Harry let Hermione hold onto his arm and guide him out of the room. His limbs felt weak and his head began to throb.

In the center of the courtyard a hero lay in repose, hands clasped together over a silver and blue robe that boasted tiny rune markings. The single man who saved the wizarding world from from itself so many times was now at rest. The torch of responsibility had been passed on to other, younger, souls.

.....

END CHAPTER TWO

A big thanks to everyone who responded! Keep reviewing if you want more.

(Again, the mistakes will be rectified ASAP after this fic is finished)


	3. Chapter 3

Harry lay in his bed, looking up at the ceiling, with his hands folded across his chest. He looked for all the world like a young man taking a leisurely nap, but inside his emotions were in turmoil. What if Dumbledore had wanted to tell him something important or perhaps there had been more information about Tom Riddle that the Headmaster had been keeping from him. All the "what if's" left Harry feeling more confused than ever. He knew that in his heart he had loved the old man even though they had shared their own disagreements in the past.

Minerva had insisted that no one had intentionally kept Harry away during the Headmaster's last hours alive, but it still stung like a pointless betrayal. Why would they have forgotten about him? Why that night? It was not as if he had been a normal student. No, that had been the problem. Harry sighed heavily and turned onto his side, tucking his hands under his head to cradle it. He would have to just let it go. It was useless to hold on to the anger - nothing could bring Dumbledore back.

"Hey, mate, wanna sneak out and play some one-on-one Quidditch?" Ron's voice whispered from the doorway.

Harry glanced over at his best friend and felt a grin play across his face. Ron always knew how to brighten things up or at least shake them up, Harry thought ruefully. Damn the rules, Quidditch sounded marvelous. He felt like rebelling against the institution and people that had brought him such pain. Damn the rules to hell.

"Sure." He responded enthusiastically.

If the teachers didn't like it then they could deal with it, the boy decided irritably. It was their fault he could not sleep anyway. With this bit of reasoning, Harry dressed quickly. The two boys grabbed their brooms and Harry's invisibility cloak before heading through the portrait hole.

....

Severus Snape followed the sound of laughter that seemed to originate from the above the Quidditch field. Muffled giggles echoed between bouts of conversation. It appeared that several students were out of their beds. Checking the time, Snape was surprised to find that it was well past two o'clock in the morning. He had not expected the Death Eater meeting to last so long.

With a weary shake of his head, the black haired potions master deviated from his course and prayed that the students would not be Slytherin. After the night he had endured, the man was not certain he could stop himself from unduly punishing his own house should they have taken advantage of his absence. Jaw set, Severus took out his wand and held it between shaking fingers.

"Crucio" had been a very popular curse that night.

As he approached the towering stands, Severus was able to distinguish words and then phrases being spoken above him. Two boys, it sounded like, but his ears will still ringing from several of the painful jinxes Lucius had pointed his way so he could not be certain. The Dark Lord had questioned his loyalties...again. Sometimes being a double spy left him with more than a little concern over the state of his soul. Tonight he wondered if there was any left.

"Harry, we better be getting back before Professor McGonagall makes her rounds."

It was Ronald Weasley's voice, there was no denying it. Snape felt his mouth twist as a snarl formed at the back of his throat. Of all the stupid, arrogant, ignorant, Gryffindor-ish things to do! Black robes billowed unseen, their edges fading into the darkness of the night seamlessly. Harry Potter was up there, in the sky, oblivious to the fact that his life was in danger.

"I will count to three!" Severus had used a sonorous spell to enhance his voice.

There were double gasps from somewhere in the fog above.

The teacher continued, anger rallying the last of his energy. "If I reach the end and you have not shown yourself and relinquished your brooms, I will not be responsible for my actions. One..."

There was a scramble of robes and the sound of air rushing past brooms. Two boys materialized out of the gray a few feet ahead. Snape was relieved that they had not tried to escape, because he seriously doubted he would have been able to prevent them. Harry was blushing, but whether it was a reaction to being caught or riding in the cold air Severus could not tell. Ron was frowning, his eyebrows drawn down low.

Snape pointed a pale hand towards the castle, the wind whipping through his hair and giving his appearance added fury. "Go to your dorm rooms immediately. I will inform the Headmistress." He stressed the title.

Ron gulped and both boys voluntarily handed over their brooms without needing to be asked. A raised eyebrow was all it took to get both boys sprinting towards the castle doors. Snape let them go, feeling the anger seep away until all that was left was a dull longing for Dumbledore. It was not until then that the man realized most of his anger had been directed at the old man.

Any other night, Severus would have skipped corralling the students altogether and simply reported it to the Albus in a short note through the floo. Now Severus Snape was forced to care about and manage business that had previously not been his concern. He hated Albus for leaving and he hated the void that would not dissipate.

The old man had given up, left the world with no anchor to help good magical beings through the war. Snape lifted his chocolate eyes to the concealed heavens and wished he had the option of giving up.

.....

Severus knocked loudly on Minerva's chamber door and waited.

"I'm coming." A sleep-tinted voice called from inside.

Several moments later the door swung open to reveal a blinking Headmistress. Severus nodded to her in greeting and folded his arms across his chest. He wondered how she would take to disciplining her own house students given the current events and her new change in duties. If he had not been so tired, the man would have sneered as he informed her of his late-night discovery at the Quidditch Pitch.

"I see." Minerva responded finally when he had finished.

She looked mildly more awake. "Thank you, Severus, for informing me." She drew a hand over her mouth and stared past him for a moment before saying quietly. "I suppose this is payback of sorts for our 'oversight' of the boy."

"Weak excuses for a pitiful attempt at rebellion. We do not need The-Boy-Who-Lived thinking he can get away with putting his life in danger."

Her eyes had widened as he spoke. "Well, I know that you are right, but at the moment I do not have the time to keep a close enough eye on the child."

"Then hire a babysitter." Snape said caustically. "Do whatever you need to, but do not let this continue. Dumbledore did not give his life so that the boy could brainlessly cavort about the Quidditch field."

Minerva nodded and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "I will see to Harry and Ron in the morning."

Snape looked ready to say something biting, but he did not. Instead, the man turned on his heel and stalked away in a flurry of billowing robes. McGonagall watched his retreating back until it disappeared around a corner. She bit her lip and wondered what her predecessor would have done in this situation. Not that it matter, she though sadly, because Albus Dumbledore was gone forever.

.....

"What!" Harry's exclamation was not a question. He had understood completely. "Why would you do this to us?"

Professor McGonagall's lips fell into a thin, straight line. "I'm afraid I was unclear. Only you, Mr. Potter, will be given daily detention. Until I feel confident that you will abide by the school rules or until such time as you are no longer in danger of being killed every time you decide to go mucking about with your friends." The last word was said with a pointed look of disappointment directed at Ron.

The red haired boy bowed his head.

"Fine, I'll promise not to go out after curfew any more." Harry said quickly, desperately. "I won't do anything to put myself in danger."

The Headmistress shook her head. "I'm sorry. I will assign you to a teacher and you will stick by that teacher's side during normal free hours after classes."

Seeing that he would not dissuade the woman, Harry felt his shoulders slump. "Who will you assign me to?"

"I am holding a faculty meeting after lunch and I will inform you tonight, Mr. Potter. You may go now."

The boys turned and left, their postures yelling 'unfair' back at the teacher. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. The detention was more of a 'idiotic choice deterrent' than a punishment. The Headmistress already knew which faculty member she would ask to watch over the interests of Harry Potter.

If she was lucky, Minerva would be able to kill two angst filled birds with one tough-love stone. For the first time since the Headmaster's death, the woman felt herself truly fitting into the role she had been assigned.

.....

The entire situation drew a long suffering sigh from the dark haired boy. Before his death Dumbledore had made it quite clear that he trusted Snape unconditionally, but for Harry it was not so easy to give up old grudges. He knew for a fact that Severus still held a place in Voldemort's inner circle - he had visions proving this - and that left the boy uneasy. What if Dumbledore had been wrong. After all, no one was infallible. Deciding to trust in his dead friend, for the moment at least, Harry knocked on the door leading into the potions classroom.

"Enter."

The silky tones were neutral and for that Harry was glad. He let the door swing open wide so that he could get a good look before walking inside. Snape was sitting at the front desk, two piles of parchment papers sitting before him. Several large cauldrons were lined against one wall and Harry assumed they were meant for him to clean. He walked towards them only to be brought up short by the raven haired man.

"What do you think you are doing?" Silk morphed into disdain.

"Um. Detention?" Harry asked, not really certain what the man was asking.

"Really?" Chocolate eyes rolled in their sockets. "I meant, what are you doing over there? Your 'detention' is to be fulfilled as I see fit."

Harry nodded and turned away from the cauldrons. Obviously, his first impressions had been wrong. He waited for an order, arms hanging at his side loosely. He felt awkward. The potions master let him stew for several drawn out moments before pointing to a chair at the front of the classroom.

"Sit."

Harry did as he was told and it took ten minutes before he realized that Professor Snape was not going to add anything more to the command. Letting his hands rest on the desk, palms facing downward, Harry felt himself drift away into a daydream of thoughts. Four hours later he found himself still seated in the same position. Bone weary, despite the fact that he had not moved from the chair, Harry was relieved when Snape finally motioned for him to stand.

"That will be all. You are free to return to your tower."

The Gryffindor stood, limping a bit as circulation returned to his legs. Dazed by the excruciating boredness that he had endured the boy took his time returning to the rooms where his friends would be waiting. Curfew arrived within thirty minutes and unable to help himself, Harry fell right to sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

.....

"That must have been some detention!" Ron exclaimed during breakfast the next morning. "Harry, I haven't seen you sleep all the way through the night since....ever."

Harry yawned, his jaw popping. "It was pretty boring, actually."

Hermione gave him a searching glance. "I think it's dreadful that the Headmistress assigned you detentions for the rest of the year. I mean, you shouldn't have been sneaking outside." She glared at Ron as if it was all his fault and then turned her attention back to Harry. "But it still seems a bit harsh."

Harry shrugged. He had not told either of them about Dumbledore's last conversation with him. For all his best friends knew, Snape was a greasy haired spy following Voldemort's every whim. Not that Harry was completely convinced otherwise. He looked up at the head table in time to catch the potions master looking away.

"I'm sure she'll come around eventually. I mean, she has to if she wants Harry to play for the team." Ron said reasonably, between bites of toast. "She is still our head of house."

Hermione looked unconvinced, but did not voice her thoughts. It was the first time that Harry had thought he might miss out on Quidditch. Strangely, the idea did not seem to bother him. It was as if all the joy had been sucked out of everything when Dumbledore died. The school grounds were missing something integral, vital even. Thinking about rushing through the air, like they had with such fun the night before, seemed to hold no joy. At least, in thought. Perhaps, like with the game with Ron, love of the sport would return full force.

Harry could hope.

.....

Snape glared at Minerva for a moment before returning to watch the Potter boy. Lilly's portrait had been ecstatic to learn that they had been paired for the remainder of the year and after the promise he had made to Albus, Severus felt a little more at ease. At least he could fulfill the last request that his mentor had made, even if it was just by babysitting an almost grown boy.

Harry did not seem to understand that the detentions were merely for his safety, not as a punishment for roaming the grounds. After all, no one could fault the boy for having emotional issues. Not considering everything that had recently transpired. That did not mean Severus agreed that it was right to let the boy continue. On the contrary.

Harry was obviously in distress. Minerva seemed to think it was because the boy had not been called to the bedside of the former Headmaster. Snape thought differently. Too many situations - most of them rooted in horror and darkness - had filled the teenagers life up to this point. There was only so much that a person could take before breaking down or folding in on themselves. Severus knew because he had experienced hitting 'the wall' of endurance. Only Albus had kept him from giving up. It was time to return the favor.

"He is looking a bit better this morning, wouldn't you say, Severus?" McGonagall asked over the clatter of eating students.

He shrugged. "Why would I notice?"

She smirked. "Come now, I am not blind, you know. I know that you're worried about him too." Her voice lowered so that no one could overhear. "Whatever you've done, I think it's brilliant. Keep up he good work, my boy."

Her eyes twinkled.

Snape did a double take, a sudden feeling of deja vu gripping him tightly. He felt the world tilt for a second before righting itself. Minerva was still looking at him, a smile playing in her eyes. So help him, if she offered candy - Severus cut off the irritation and forced his face to remain stoic. The last thing he needed was to let the whole school know he had decided to be 'soft' on his nemesis.

"If you are referring to the detentions that you have forced upon us both." His dark eyes glared daggers. "Then I must agree. It was hard."

He returned to eating and ignored her look of bemusement. The first class of the day came to early and Severus needed time to prepare since he had been up late talking with the portrait of Lilly instead of doing his work. He felt a blush creep up his neck as a feeling washed over him. It was the guilt of a student having skipped studying for an exam in exchange for a late night out with friends. It was strange to feel that way again after so long. Who ever said adulthood bred maturity had never met Professor Severus Snape.

He stood, pushing the rest of his meal away, and walked quickly out of the room before nostalgia could grip him tight. Minerva watched him go, her quick eyes catching the embarrassed turn of the man's lips. Her curiosity was aroused, but she pushed it away. There was no time for idle wondering anymore. With a look at the time, the woman let her eyebrows shoot upwards. The first Transfiguration class would begin in twenty minutes. First years, she thought with a fond smile.

.....

Harry yawned for the tenth time that morning and let his head rest on his arms. Divination was a lot more entertaining than his detention had been, but still it held little interest. There were only so many 'doomed' speeches that one could hear before tuning them all out. Trewlany was taking great pleasure in convincing a Hufflepuff girl that he pet cat would not survive till the weekend. Harry blew a stray bang out of his eyes and wondered how to sleep with his eyes open.

He was so tired.

He let his eyes fall closed, promising himself to only do so for a moment, and then darkness and silence came.

_Sirius, riding on Buck Beak, headed towards the cloudy horizon._

_Sirius, walking towards Harry at the train station._

_Sirius, calling him 'James' in the midst of battle._

_Sirius, falling into the veil._

Harry awoke with a strangled cry of bereavement. He blinked away the nightmare and found himself facing the concerned, scared expressions of an entire class. He swallowed hard and tried to pass it off as a joke.

"Thought I saw a grim there for a moment...just there." He pointed out the window to the swirling rain clouds outside.

The diversion worked and Trewlany took this as a sign that everyone would be deathly sick with a disease before dinner. The teacher's grim "divinations" turned more absurd by the class so everyone else soon forgot about Harry's abrupt awakening.

Hermione and Ron were not fooled by Harry though. They remained silent, knowing that he would talk about it when he was ready. For that the dark haired teenager was grateful. He had the best friends in the world.

Rain began to beat against the window pane and Harry watched the drops slide down in little rivers, his thoughts turning back to Sirius. A sharp ache stabbed his heart and he felt his throat tighten. This was not the place for tears, but sometimes there was no choosing when to mourn. Biting his lip hard to keep the tears at bay, Harry forced himself through the rest of the class period.


	4. Chapter 4

.....

"Tonight I would like you to make a list."

Snape slapped a foot of parchment and a quill down in front of Harry. It was after class several days after their first detention. The potions master had decided that it was high time someone helped the boy deal with his emotions and whatever horrible events were clouding his judgement.

"A list, sir?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes." Snape stood straight, glaring down his nose at the boy. "I want a list of every significant event that has taken place in your life. Only the ones that have negatively impacted you - I do not care what wonderful things transpired at that god awful muggle household you have grown up in."

With those simple instructions, Snape turned on his heel and went to his desk. He began to mark essays and potions. Harry blinked in shock for a moment before drawing the writing utensils towards him.

"What if I refuse." Harry felt his insides turn cold as he waited for a response.

Snape was silent for a long moment. "Then there will be nothing I can do to help you, Potter." He answered.

Harry swallowed hard, but took the quill in his hand and began to write. He had to trust Dumbledore. Hand shaking slightly, Harry began to list the life of horrors no one knew was kept locked tight behind his green eyes. Before he knew it, the front of the paper was covered with tightly spaced lines so he turned the paper over and continued to write. By the time it too was filled, Harry had barely made it to his third year at Hogwarts. He put down the writing instrument and looked up at the front desk where Snape was bowed over a dwindling pile of papers.

"I've run out of room." Harry felt that the words were small and hallow in the oppressive silence of the dungeons.

Snape made a quick motion with his wand and another, empty, page appeared before Harry. Twenty minutes later, he was finished. As he pushed the papers away from him, Harry felt a sudden exhaustion settle over his muscles. It felt like he had run a marathon. A sharp ache between his shoulders indicated he must have been tense, though he could not remember it being that bad. He exhaled heavily and waited with growing tiredness as the hours wained.

"Very good, you may go now."

Harry jumped in his seat. Snape was standing next to him, holding the papers he had written and giving him a pointed look that seemed to say 'go to bed before you fall into a coma'. Harry slipped out of the chair and headed for the tower. He had never been so sleepy in his entire life.

Snape watched him leave with raised eyebrows. Turning back to his desk, the professor looked down to read what the boy had written. It had certainly surprised him when Harry had asked for more paper, after all, the boy was only a teenager. Just how many unsavory events could he have partaken in? Severus brushed long dark locks behind his ear and read.

.....

Chocolate eyes stared at the stone wall in shock, mouth open slightly, and eyebrows drawn near the hairline. Severus Snape could not believe that the boy had been though so much. It was impossible and yet, he knew that there had been no deception. The entire thing was too matter-of-fact.

Harry James Potter, bane of his professional life, had been horribly abused. The list was almost more than he could bear to digest. The teacher slumped against the back of his chair as he tried to comprehend the paradigm shift that had taken place in the last several seconds.

No more certainty existed in his mind. There had never been fawning or praise or mindless showers of gifts for the poor boy. Only hardship and loneliness. It hurt Severus to know that his best friend would have to learn of this from beyond the grave. Lily was going to kill someone when she found out.

Lily. Severus squeezed his eyes closed and gasped in a sharp breath. How could he have ever let his hatred of James Potter blind him to the harm being done right under his nose...to none other than Lily's son. His heart constricted painfully.

There would be no redemption, but he could try to make the load easier for Harry to bear in the future. The boy seemed almost well adjusted in his day to day life, but now Severus knew how strong that facade had become over the years. Perhaps by necessity. That knowledge almost sent the man to tears.

Bars placed over windows.

Starved for two weeks.

Threat to kill Hedwig.

Chamber of Secrets.

Fight with Basilisk.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Cedric's death.

Fight in the graveyard.

Vision of Sirius being tortured.

Fight at the Ministry.

Death of Sirius.

The list went on and on. Most of it appeared to be in chronological order, but some seemed added as an afterthought - as if the boy had forgotten! Snape shook his head, wondering how that was possible. At least Harry had held nothing back. Every event, no matter how small, seemed to be listed in a tight, scraggly scrawl.

There would not be enough time to go over each event, but Snape knew that eventually Harry had to feel comfortable enough to discuss them when he needed to. So far, the boy had only suppressed and ignored his feelings - or so the teacher assumed - and that was about to change.

.....

"Tonight you will talk with Mr. Bangle, I assume you know of him?" Snape greeted his young charge.

Harry slid into his customary seat in the front row of desks. "Yes. He is one of the counselors."

"Correct. I have arranged for him to meet with you for several hours this week.

"What!" Harry jumped out of his seat, anger flushing his face. "You can't make me talk to him!"

Snape raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "Mr. Potter, you sorely underestimate my ... motivation on the matter."

Harry felt confused. He clenched his jaw and took a step towards the door, prepared to leave and face the Headmistress' wrath instead of staying. He knew it had been a bad idea to trust in the spy. Not even Dumbledore would have forced a student into counseling.

"You're only doing this to torture me!"

Snape almost laughed in the boy's face at the sheer absurdity of his claim. As a Death Eater, Severus had been part of real torture. It twisted victims, filling their souls with a black despair that took years to dissipate. Harry Potter, of all people, should know what true pain felt like. He had felt it in the past, the list of written trespasses against his personal liberties were proof of that.

"You will sit back down and hold your tongue, young man." There was no room for argument. "Now!"

Harry sat back down, slumping in the seat with an unreadable expression on his face. He waited silently, watching the Potions Master collect himself. After a moment Severus explained.

"It is my duty as a responsible adult to see that your emotional needs are met. You are not willing to voluntarily undergo necessary treatment so I am taking over guardianship of you until further notice."

Harry's eyebrows shot up under the fringe of his hair, but he remained silent. Snape seemed taken aback by his silence and it took a long moment before the man continued.

"The Headmistress has signed the proper papers and until such time as I see fit to release you from my care, you will do as I say in matters concerning your health. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, his face stony and dark.

Severus felt his stomach clench anxiously. He could not tell if the boy wanted to curse or cry, but either would have been preferable to the lack of reaction. Perhaps he had gone to far by yelling at the boy, maybe he should have been more patient.

"Well, what do you think, Potter?"

Harry drew in a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think this isn't going to work out, sir, if you can't even go five minutes without screaming your head off. I'm not a child, I'm not an adult - I am a teenager. You would do well not to forget it."

Snape was struck speechless by the boy's cheek.

"We will talk about this tomorrow." The teacher was able to choke out. "Return to your dorm."

Harry felt confused. He had only just arrived. "But-."

"Now! -I mean, now, please, Mr. Potter." Snape's voice had lowered, but not softened.

.......

"He's done what!" Ron cried, spraying a mouthful of scrambled eggs across the table.

"Eew!" Hermione exclaimed in disgust, pulling her book to her chest in time to save it from being splattered by the half-chewed food.

"Ron, honestly." Harry shook a piece of the debris from his robe with a frown. "It's not something you have to announce to the entire school. Besides, I'm only half-sure he wasn't joking. I'm going to speak with McGonagall after Transfiguration class."

"Professor McGonagall, Harry." Hermione corrected as she continued to glare at Ron.

"Whatever. My point is, that there is no reason for us to get all....gross....without knowing for sure." Harry said, directing his words to Ron.

"What?" Ron asked around a large mouthful of toast, baffled by their reproof. "I'm just saying."

"Yes. We've seen that." Hermione agreed with a wrinkle of her nose.

"So, you're really alright with this, mate?" Ron asked uncertainly.

Harry snorted. "Hardly! I just feel it would be better to save the really childish tantrum until I have no choice."

......

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked the boy who was waiting in the doorway as the rest of the students trickled out.

Harry walked forward until he was even with the front row of seats. McGonagall was behind her desk, organizing the papers that had just been turned in to her. The Boy-Who-Lived felt strangely uncomfortable in her presence. It was almost like she had put on Dumbledore's persona like an old robe. It was unsettling.

Harry cleared his throat. "Is it true that Snape has guardianship of me now?"

Minerva cast him a sharp glance. "He's told you, has he?"

"Yes."

She sighed and folded her hands under her chin, fixing him with a look of worry. "If I had more time, I would do it myself, but Albus did wish you and Severus to ... come to an understanding. I thought it would be best to heed his last wishes. Don't you, my boy?"

She was looking over her glasses at him and for a moment Harry could have sworn she'd grown a white beard. He shook his head and the image disappeared. Perhaps he did need to see a therapist after all.

"Will I have to live with him? What is going to happen to me? Do I have to do everything he says? Is he adopting me?...Why?" His torrent of questions ended with that one, small word. Spoken in a soft almost-whisper.

Minerva closed eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose she tried to think of an appropriate answer. The boy was so fragile already, maybe she had done the wrong thing by forcing him into a position where he would have to be supervised by an self-described 'cranky old bat'.

She opened her eyes.

"No, dear, you will not be expected to live with him. You will have to obey him the same as any teacher, but you are always welcome to come to me if you disagree with anything. There will be a choice for you, my boy."

Harry's shoulders relaxed at this news. He felt a little better, but Snape was still, well, Snape.

"As for adoption..."

Harry blushed furiously, embarrassed that he had even asked in the first place.

"...A guardian is more of a mentor than a father. A role model, if you will."

Harry raised a sardonic eyebrow. "I am suppose to look up to Snape as a role model? Doesn't he have the dark mark?"

The teacher smiled softly. "Yes, but he's not the only one to have been marked by the dark lord."

The boy's hand automatically went to his scar. "Oh."

"Indeed. Now, if there is nothing else, I have things to do and you have a class to attend."

Harry nodded and turned to leave. He paused for a moment. "Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter."

"Please, don't tell Snape that I asked about the adoption thing."

"Of course."

Unable to meet her gaze, Harry left without looking backward. He started to run so that he wouldn't be late for Potions.

.....

(AUTHOR NOTE: Once again, I will go back and edit/fix this story once it is finished so, please, do not flame or point out meaningless errors that will be gone from the next draft of this story)

I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review and let me know what you think. Thanks! 3


End file.
